


Freelove

by asymptotes



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Borderline Personality Disorder, Drunken Confessions, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, Panic Attacks, Relationship Negotiation, pining Dennis, there's a storm under all that nonchalance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5946595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asymptotes/pseuds/asymptotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What was the point of your best friend being in repressed gay love with you if you didn't end up banging or at least making out for hours at some point?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in the It's Always Sunny fandom, comments are welcome!
> 
> Title is from the song "Freelove" by Depeche Mode
> 
> I'm aiming for a multi-chapter here. The first chapter mentions the events of Mac Day, The Gang Squashes Their Beefs and The Gang Group Dates

The day Dennis decides that he hates Mac is the day he meets the most actualized version of Mac possible. It figures. Mac's badass cousin from the country is every single thing that regular, decidedly un-badass City Mac is not. Before he's annoyed, Dennis is amused by the irony of it all. Country Mac jumps off of a bridge, literally, just because he can. Country Mac fears nothing, rides a motorcycle without a helmet (which was a totally stupid thing to do but still). Country Mac appreciates the complexities of the universe. He can talk about the cosmos without sounding like an uneducated fool. Country Mac smokes pot and talks about energies.

Least surprising of all, Country Mac has no qualms about telling people he's just met that he sleeps with men, like it's no big deal. Because it wasn't. Why should it be? Dennis finds his thoughts wandering back to these questions for the rest of the day. It didn't need to be a big deal. It was 2013 for chrissakes, when was Mac going to get over himself and bang a dude? Or at least admit that he wanted to. Dennis oils the back of some buff guy with Charlie and fantasizes about how much better his life would be if this fearless, New Age Mac could replace his tragically stunted best friend. Would they get into even wilder, more harebrained schemes, uninhibited by city Mac copping out at the last moment? Would this hypothetical Country Mac/Real Mac hybrid let Dennis fuck him in his bed after they hotbox the bathroom in their apartment, just because they could? The possibilities were endless. Dennis was too high to stop himself from thinking about them.

The next day, Dennis watches the real Mac give a crappy eulogy at Country Mac's underwhelming wake and feels an hot red irritation rise in his chest. _If only you could be half the man Country Mac was_ , he thinks. If only you had half the courage to step out of your self-righteous delusion. Then I wouldn't be suffering like this. 

Some fleeting rational part of Dennis' mind reminds him that he wouldn't want any other version of Mac to have been his best friend. There was only one real Ronald fucking MacDonald in his life. Dennis called him Ronnie the Rat in high school and now they'd been blood brothers for two decades and maybe that was the problem. Dennis would never be rid of him, and he sort of (okay definitely)- never wanted himself to be. He knew that Mac felt the same, even if he didn't want to admit what it meant. Dennis hated the whole thing, but some sick part of him cherished what this kind of unique power meant. He couldn't deny the intrigue. Oh sweet, dear Mac, if only you had the courage to live half the live your dead queer cousin lived. Maybe then I wouldn't hate you so damned much.

*

Mac and Dennis spend the next few months like they spent several months before - sewn at the hip. They were partners in crime, as usual. All hands on each others backs and laughs at Dee's expense and humouring Charlie together and Mac looking at Dennis like his face had all of the answers. Dennis wasn't preoccupied, but lately he'd become hyper-aware of Mac's presence in his life. He found himself cataloguing moments in his memory and jotting down (proof? evidence.) of Mac's attraction to him in the privacy of his room at night. It was comforting to have it all down. The push and pull had being going on for a ridiculous amount of time and he refused to suffer for nothing.

What was the point of your best friend being in repressed gay love with you if you didn't end up banging or at least making out for hours at some point? It'd become exhausting, ten years on. But still Dennis relished in every moment. He got a weird kick akin to seeing a crack pipe every time Mac's eyes widened when Dennis bit his lip and stared back for too long. If he could contain that feeling, bottle it up and mainline it whenever he wanted without getting addicted, he would. Mac smiles to himself after Dennis' bouts of seduction when he thinks Dennis can't see. Barely in character, Mac wrestles with him naked in the showers, grips his shoulder so tight that his clutch leaves bruises. Later on, Dennis examines his topless reflection. He smirks at a bruise on his shoulder in the mirror, remembering the tussle. He fingers the light purple bruises Mac's hands left and finds that he doesn't mind that his even porcelain complexion was compromised.

Dennis decides that when the time comes, when Mac is ready to go beyond shooting vodka down his throat with a gun, when the time was nice and ripe, he would be the first man to give Mac an orgasm. It didn't make sense for it to be anyone else but him and Mac was probably too chicken to seek out another dude anyways. So, all in due course.

*

A couple of weeks later, the Gang invites all of their old skeletons out of the closet to dine. The resulting hellfire winds up leaving Mac and Dennis' apartment burnt to a crisp. Everyone is standing in the fading late afternoon light outside of the building, yelling at each other. Mac screams at Dee to call 911. In the midst of the fracas, Dennis is stood still. He feels a calm sense of relief. In the moment before he allows the other shoe drop in his mind, before he allows himself to accept that his apartment, his and Mac's apartment was fucking ruined - he sort of feels okay about the whole thing.

Dennis doesn't believe in any higher powers except for himself. What he does believe in is events of divinity, of significance. He believes the liminality of the universe. On his own time, Dennis has taken out niche books on synchronicity from the city library. He reads chapter after chapter on co-occuring events from behind his gold-rimmed reading glasses late in his room at night, reflecting on how everything in this shitty universe is connected in some way. Equilibrium dissolves into action and then reaction and then echoes on forever.

It was only a matter of time until they had the rug pulled out from under them. They'd been fucking around doing nothing for so long. They had been flying too close to the sun.

*

Dennis doesn't stop pursuing women. He's a full-blooded, mostly hetero man with a healthy libido after all. No point in getting antsy while playing the long game. Mac, Charlie and Frank go on their stupid group-dates at the table behind his. Dennis smiles too hard in the face of yet another lady that has no clue what she was missing out on when she leaves. There was another rating that wouldn't be five stars. Another half hour, another woman abandoning his table with a huff. She stomps towards the front exit in her cheap heels and Dennis has never remembered being so incensed in his life. He was floundering in person and online and inside own self and that was three places too many.

"Damn you, woman! I am a five star man!" He points at her back, finger shaking. Dennis bellows at nobody and nothing for a spell before remembering himself.

"You okay, bro?" Mac calls out from behind him and Dennis doesn't respond.

He storms into the back office, whipping the door shut behind him and locking it from the inside. He doesn't care who had seen him yell, he doesn't give a single iota of a fuck. Dennis kicks at the shelving unit until a bunch of items fall, crashing on the dirty floor.

An unknown hard object falls from the highest shelf. The corner collides with Dennis' forehead, sending a short-lived pain through his skull. Dennis freezes in shock more than anything else.

"Shit! God damn it. Damn it."

Furious, Dennis rubs his head and casts his eyes over the mess on the floor. Charlie would clean it all up later, half of the stuff was his. He scans the array of stuff until his eyes stop at the offending item, a frame that was lying face-up. It was a fancy wooden picture frame that had a weight to it as Dennis grabbed it. Inside the fancy frame was what appeared to be a generic wedding stock photo. The heads of the bride and groom covered, taped over with replacements. There was a polaroid cutout of Charlie's face, the profile picture from the years forgotten dating profile where the groom should be. A blurry cutout of The Waitresses face printed on thinner, less expensive paper is taped over where the bride's smiling face would be.

Dennis blinked down at the frame in incredulity, almost unseeing for a second before tossing it to the floor in disgust. Pathetic! Every single goddamned person around him was a self-deluded lunatic. They were all rubbing off on him somehow, transferring their muck and their staleness onto him, dragging Dennis down to the ever wide plains of mediocrity alongside them. It was inescapable.

Dennis throws himself onto the smelly rolling chair, dropping his elbows onto the desk. He cradles his warm forehead in his hands, trying to make his exhales longer than his inhales. He was failing. He was worthless. He couldn't be. He wasn't a Golden God for nothing. Dennis sucks gulps of air into his lungs that feel more like swallowing rocks than anything else. He inhales through his nose in and out over and over until it doesn't hurt to breathe anymore.

After a moment, Dennis lifts his head from his hands. He brushes at the tears at the corner of his eyes and stares blankly at the back of door to the office. He squints at the wood splintering there and wills himself to relax. As his heart rate slows down, a calm voice in the back of his mind whispers into the hollow his chest. Tells him something he didn't want to be thinking about so soon after losing control like that.

The voice says _'you know, Mac would give you a five-star rating anywhere you wanted if you just asked, Dennis. Even if you didn't ask.'_   It's a weak moment and Dennis can't ignore the thought. Dennis suspects that Mac wouldn't hesitate to fill him up with so much attention and adoration, he wouldn't know what to do with it. What would he do with that kind of power? The pure kind, where both people acknowledge that there is power to be held? Would they ever be able to have that conversation? The notion was just about as virtual and unreal as the ratings on the dating site. It was also no less terrifying.

Dennis goes home early and destroys all eighty-two sex tapes in his possession. It's the most satisfied he's felt in weeks.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes at night, when the dull roar of city sounds weren't enough to lull him to sleep, all he can do is lay awake and mull things over in his mind. Dennis remembers walking away from Mac, right off of the plane in South Dakota with nothing but his wallet; his chest hollow and empty as ever. As if it would solve any of his problems."

In the midst of the recent fuckery of events, Dennis finds he doesn't really how to go about anything anymore. He was still himself, but he felt shaky, like he wasn't standing on solid ground with his delivery. Nowadays, everything unsettled him somehow, even in the smallest of ways. Dee's voice was too grating. He had no patience for Frank and Charlie's shenanigans at times. He was even slightly more on edge whenever he was around Mac, which was everyday. Then again, Dennis thinks, how much different were these conditions from before? At the same time if it was nothing, why was it all suddenly so unbearable? Dennis didn't know.

Sometimes at night, when the dull roar of city sounds weren't enough to lull him to sleep, all he can do is lay awake and mull things over in his mind. Dennis remembers walking away from Mac, right off of the plane in South Dakota with nothing but his wallet; his chest hollow and empty as ever. As if it would solve any of his problems.

He remembers secretly hoping that the reality of being in a completely different state by himself for a few hours might just maybe jumpstart his emotions again. The adrenaline rush that came with throwing yourself into something like that. It didn't work. He'd had horrible pre-onset hangover symptoms the whole flight back to Philly later that evening; he was tired as hell from all of the beers and worst of all he didn't even have Mac to bitch about flying in his present state to. It was useless.

On the brighter side, Dennis had to admit they'd been settling into a new equilibrium recently, throughout the changes. Living with Dee had created a space for him for him and Mac to bond in a way they hadn't had before. They stuck up for themselves against Dee's demands and generally just enjoyed teaming up against her. When they were on edge with each other, Dee acted as some sort of weird social buffer between them. Dennis would never tell his sister this, but he was grateful for it.

*

One morning a few weeks after the group dating fiasco, Dennis wakes with a start and immediately freezes, not wanting to upset the hammock. He paws at his lower body until his hand bumps against his phone. He brings it up to his face, illuminating the screen. 1:04 pm. He'd slept in. Great. He closes his eyes and stretches luxuriously, imagining he was a cat that had nothing to worry about except for his next meal. To his surprise, his next thought is ‘I hope Mac's not home.'

He could call Dee's cell, tell her he was coming down with something, then stay home all day and jerk off in the shower (not thinking about any sources of his frustration) for as long as he wanted without Dee yelling at him about the water bill. He hoped.

Speaking of water. Dennis throws his feet over the hammock with a groan and pinches his nose before putting on his house robe. When he gets to the kitchen, Mac is sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper with an empty plate and a coffee mug steaming in front of him. Dennis stops on the rug in front of the TV and watches his roommate for a moment, unsure how to react. Mac senses him and looks up, dropping the newspaper to the table.

"Hey sleepyhead!" Mac says, greeting Dennis with an easy grin. "There's hot coffee in the pot if you want some."

"Hey, dude," Dennis replies after second. He steps forward. "Uh, tea would be great, thanks."

"Oh, sure." Mac stands up, grabs the kettle and takes it to the sink.

Mac is a ball of energy and all of the sudden Dennis feels like he's made from lead. Dennis stays stood still for a moment, looking down at the table before remembering himself and taking a seat across from where Mac was set-up.

A wave of lightheadedness rushes over his head from sitting down quickly. Dennis was grateful he didn't have to stand right now, now that he thought about it. He lounges in his chair, watching his friend. Mac chances a look back at Dennis before asking with all the nonchalance he could muster: "You sleep good?"

"Oh, like a baby. You?" Dennis sounds groggier and more petulant than he would care to. If Mac notices, he doesn't mention it.

"Yeah! Well, well. That floor is more comfortable than you'd think, with all the blankets and stuff."

Dennis allows the corners of his mouth to turn up into a smile. Mac smiles back. The apartment seems smaller than it already was with it just being the two of them there. It was nice.

"I didn't know you'd slept in too, thought you caught a ride with Dee." 

"Nah, I woke up at like eleven o'clock and saw you were still sleeping so I just went back to bed too. Told Dee to go ahead and open up the bar. I'd rather just go in with you." Mac says this as simply as he's recited bible verses from memory. He turns back to the sink, sets the kettle on the dock and flicks the switch. "What kind of tea do you want, bro?"

Dennis wonders if Mac hears himself sometimes. He shifts in his chair, sliding a little lower along its back.

He likes the thought of Mac waiting for him, accommodating for him even when he didn't ask him to. In his sleepy state of mind, he finds himself enjoying watching Mac, lazily taking him apart with his eyes. He was barefoot, still in his pajama pants which he paired with one of Dennis rescued old t-shirts, characteristically cut at the sleeves.

Mac opens the cupboard and searches for a mug, leaning on the balls of his feet to reach a nice tall one on the top shelf, one of Dee's best. Dennis lets his eyes drag across the pull of Mac's shoulders on his shirt, settling his gaze on his waist. Dennis wonders what Mac would say if he crowded him against the counter; if he sunk to his knees in front of him and made sure to wipe that helpful smile off of his face. 

"Dennis?" Mac asks impatiently, hovering at the cupboard.

Dennis is suddenly aware of the slight morning wood he'd woken up with only ten minutes ago, which was a bit more than slight now.

"Oh sweet, that was a good idea. And, green please....if Dee has any." Dennis says casually, way too late. 

Mac whips around and his hair flops way more than it needs to. Dennis takes a calm breath, steeling himself. He didn't think the day would come where Mac just existing near him first thing after he wakes up would be enough catch him off guard. He blinks and Mac is closer to him, eyeing him, his deep brown eyes narrowed. 

"Uh, are you okay, Dennis? You're acting kind of weird."

"How do you mean?" Dennis asks, his heartbeat thumping in his chest. God, he hated himself.

"I dunno," Mac makes a face and scratches the back of his neck, his bicep bulging. "You're being so...nice, you know, like chill. You haven't said anything mean about my hair yet and it's been like, minutes."

Dennis remembers to breathe through his nose slowly and evenly, like he's taught himself to.

"If you'll remember, I just woke up. Haven't had the chance to turn on the mean yet." He smiles up at his roommate, trying to play it off as a joke, trying to put some charm into his eyes, anything. 

Mac watches him, unconvinced. "I don't know, dude. Are you sure you're okay? You must be hungry. I can’t really cook, but there has to be something I can do to help?"

_You'd be surprised._

"I'm fine, alright? Sit down, please. Sit with me," Dennis insists, gesturing at Mac' seat. 

Dennis does not feel fine. Dennis has the beginnings of a full-on boner and his best friend was too goddamned blind to see what was going on, let alone realize that he was the cause. Dennis feels the opposite of fine but acting any different wouldn't help him now. He definitely couldn't stand up.

Mac shrugs and sidles back over to the table. He sets Dennis' green tea in front of him before sitting down across from him, watching him carefully. Dennis nods once.

"Thank you. Good. Now, what are you looking at there?" Dennis jerks his chin out at the newspaper in front of Mac. 

"Oh, I was just looking through the classifieds for some quotes on some places? You know, for other apartments near the bar?" Mac watches Dennis as if he was waiting for him to answer a question.

Dennis wills his dick to calm down and concludes he that likes this Mac, the one that waits for him to wake up so they can start the day together. The one who takes initiative but still asks for his opinion before going forward, in that roundabout way that was only his. Dennis clears his throat, a little more settled.

"Hmm, I don't think we'll be able to afford anywhere else yet. Plus, it's kind of fun mooching off of Dee isn't it?"

Mac laughs and takes a sip of his coffee, eyes smiling at Dennis over the rim of the mug. 

"Yeah, it is. I thought you would've wanted to be out of here as soon as possible though."

"See I did, but I changed my mind." He keeps his gaze on Mac’s, levelling him with his eyes. 

“Okay,” Mac says. He stares back at his friend, brows furrowed. He doesn't look convinced.

Dennis allows his gaze to flicker across Mac’s features, down his nose, to his lips, further down to his throat, then back up to his eyes which Dennis then finds looking at his own neck with a soft, cloudy expression. He tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows at Mac until he meets his eyes again.

"Let's wait, alright?" Dennis says, his voice hard but no softer than the room could register.

Mac sits up as if just released from a spell, his back straight. 

"Okay, sure," Mac says. "Alright, Dennis. Whatever you say."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2!
> 
> I know I said they'd be going to Guigino's next but this came out of me first. 
> 
> Thank you again for the kudos and kind comments, always greatly appreciated.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I mean, I guess, but with the amount of cologne you’re wearing?” Dennis drops his eyes to Mac’s chest for emphasis. “That’s indicative of a romantic attraction, and at the very least, an expectation of getting a little closer later on. That kid was just being observant!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! <3
> 
> This is a longer chapter.  
> I'm having a lot of fun playing with Dennis' character, lol. Probably too much.

And so they go on. A couple days later, Psycho Pete turns up at the bar and that’s a whole other thing. Charlie won’t stop going on about his and Mac’s younger heydays with this now virtual stranger and Dennis feels himself bristling with contempt. He’s not sure what, but there is something about this that he doesn’t like. He contributes to the conversation, commits to the scheme, but Dennis also decides he wants this particular temporary fixation to be over with as soon as possible. 

Dennis and Dee go to the psychiatrist to get drugs for Psycho Pete, and somehow the conversation becomes about him. How, he does not know. He just knows that Dee should shut her goddamned mouth sometimes. 

“Dennis, do you find that you are at times unable to control your anger?” The plain-looking doctor asks him, looking over at him with what was supposed to be an understanding gaze. 

Dennis makes sure to stare right back at his face; he’d read enough on body language from his womanizing days to know that looking away meant guilt and fear, and he had nothing to hide. Especially not from this doughy bastard. 

“Depends on the situation,” he replies, his tone light.

The doctor perks up at this, intrigued.

“Oh? Do you mean you struggle to keep your anger under control during stressful situations?”

“Yes,” Dennis agrees. “Sometimes in regular ones too, if someone is pissing me off.” He fixes the older man with a hard look. “However right now, I think I’m doing a magnificent job at keeping my anger under control.” 

The doctor stares back at him, transfixed, before turning to Dee and raising his eyebrows. Dee nods her head at him and shrugs her shoulders, as if to say ‘yeah, he’s like this all the time.”

 _That traitorous bitch,_ Dennis thinks, _that absolute bitch._ He feels his face getting hot. 

“Look at me! Don’t look at her, you crock! I’m the one who's talking to you,” Dennis shouts. “You decaying toad of a man.“

*

Dee takes the pills and shoves them in her purse. By the time they walk out of the office, Dennis is practically seeing red.

“BPD,” Dee echoes in the elevator, breaking the silence. She crosses her arms, eyeing Dennis. “It all makes sense now.”

“Oh shut up, Ms. Psych 101. With your stupid abbreviations. You tried to light your freaking roommate on fire.”

Dee just looks at him with a wry smile on her face.

“You’re never going to let me live that one down are you?”

“Uh, let’s see, hmm...no! You’ve been institutionalized. I haven’t. _I_ actually graduated from college, if you’ll remember.” Dennis says, and he hopes his words burn. 

“Oh I remember,” Dee regards him calm as ever, her gaze flickering to his heaving chest. “At least I’ve accepted that I’ve got issues.”

Dennis scoffs. “Oh have you? That’s really helped with your life quality, hasn’t it.” 

“Yeah, it has,” Dee says airily. “I’ve changed since then. Mellowed out a bit. You, not so much. Not so sure about _your_ sanity nowadays. You’re still acting like these pills are for Psycho Pete.”

Dee smirks unkindly, knowing she’s hit a nerve. For a moment, Dennis swears his can hear his ears ringing. He rounds on his sister, forcing her into the corner of the elevator, crowding into her space. Dee’s eyes widen with fright for a second before her features fall back into a grim mask. Dennis makes sure to speak slowly and calmly, his tone hardly concealing his simmering rage. 

“You utter bitch. I should choke you out right now. How dare you.”

Dee doesn’t flinch, looks him straight in the eye, unafraid. It’s her lack of fear that irritates Dennis the most.

“Try it. Prove me right.”

Neither sibling says a word for a moment then the elevator door opens with an electronic ping. Dee pushes past her brother and marches out of the building, her purse swinging behind her. Dennis follows her through the parking lot to the Range Rover, willing his rage to quell a little. She was right; choking your sister because she implied that you were insane wasn’t a very sane thing to do. He still wants to choke her, nevertheless.

The drive back to the bar is silent. After he parks, Dennis immediately moves to get out of the car and Dee grabs his arm to stop him. Dennis glares down at her hand, stilling in his seat.

“What do you want?” 

“These pills are not for Psycho Pete, Dennis.” Dee says, pointing down at her purse, her tone softer than before.

“I’m going inside now.”

“Dude, I’m your sister. You have to know that I care about you,” Dee pleads. She rubs her thumb in a small circle on her brother’s forearm. “I have to.” 

Dennis frowns and rips his hand from his sister's grip.

“Was that supposed to stop me from leaving this car?”

They don’t talk about it alone again.

*

By the time the weekend rolls around, Pete is long gone but Charlie and Mac are still reminiscing about their days with him. And after that, their childhood days, when it was just the two of them against the world. Mac chuckles easily at Charlie’s stories and funny faces and Dennis notes the stir of irritation in his stomach. _Relax, relax._

Lately, it seemed as though Mac was keener to be around happy-go-lucky Charlie. The thing that he felt had changed in him, the thing that that loser doctor must’ve seen, Dennis figured Mac must be picking up on in his own way. This newfound resentment and impatience that must’ve been rolling off of him in waves lately. 

Dennis takes a long drag from his beer, watching Charlie and Mac gabber away, blind leading the blind, thick as thieves, and tells himself to relax.

After a minute, Dee walks over with a beer in her hand and a smug smile on her face. 

“Hey Dennis, don’t look so happy, you're gonna scare all of our sad-sack clientele away.” 

Dennis shoots her a look and continues to brood. Dee walks off, chuckling to herself.

It wasn’t jealousy or anything like that. It was just annoying to think that while young Mac and Charlie got to run around their rundown neighborhoods, having a blast together whenever they wanted- Dennis was stuck in a house with Dee and her insecurities every single day, for years on end. 

So who gave a fuck about what Dee thought anyways?

*

Despite everything, they continue on with the monthly dinners. Every last Thursday of the month, Mac is extra jaunty and excited at work, practically bouncing around Dennis. Dennis acts like nothing is out of the sort but he can’t help but indulge him a tad more, berate him a bit less. It’s what he does.

On one of these choice afternoons, Dee asks: “Hey, why haven’t you and Mac been at each other’s throats at all today?” mildly, wiping a glass with a rag.

“Yeah,” Charlie chimes in, fingering his beard thoughtfully. “It is kinda weird.”

Dennis narrows his eyes. Idiots. They were so obnoxious for taking advantage of a moment when Mac is out of the room. Then again, he thinks, they could’ve started this while Mac was still there. He doesn’t give a shit, but some part of Dennis is grateful they don’t.

“We don’t fight every day. You guys are the king and queen of exaggeration. Don’t you two shitbags have anything better to do?”

Dee and Charlie look at each other for a moment before bursting into peals of laughter.

“I’m The King!” Charlie says in a pompous British accent, puffing out his chest. 

“And I, the reigning Queen over the honourable land of Exaggeration.” Dee says, elongating her vowels. She holds a hand up with a prim wave. “The state of Mac and Dennis’ friendship knows nothing of our bountiful borders,” she lets her tone lilt dramatically. Charlie cackles loudly and slaps the bar, his eyes crinkling. Dee smiles back. “Nothing at all.” 

Dennis rolls his eyes and wets his lips with his tongue. For once, he wishes Mac would hurry up with his piss and get back out here. 

“No but really, did you two finally bang last night or something? I was only out with Artemis for a couple of hours. You guys are sneaky.” Dee presses.

“If you’re done with being crass Dee, Mac and I are going to-”

“Oh...I see what it is,” Charlie points, finger jabbing the air. “They have their date at Guigino’s tonight.” 

“Makes sense,” Dee nods.

“It’s not a date.” 

“Yeah, right,” Charlie says. “And the moon causes the tides of the ocean.”

Dee frowns. “Charlie, the moon _does_ cause the tides of the ocean.”

Charlie quirks his head at Dee, squinting quizzically. “She does?”

“Yeah, she does.”

Charlie pulls a face and turns back to Dennis. 

“Guess it is a date then, huh Dennis? Does Mac know that?” Charlie's eyes light up with mirth and it takes everything inside of Dennis to not slap him in the face.

Mac chooses that moment to walk out of the bathroom and the conversation is over.

_Thank goodness._

*

Later on, Mac parts his hair sharp and trades in his usual dark khaki pants for a nice pair of slacks. He pairs them with a clean grey polo shirt. Dennis picks out a dark green button-down he thinks brings out his eyes. He liked to look excellent when gracing Guigino’s with his presence. He likes that Mac wants to look good too, even though he knew it was partially for his sake. 

For whatever reason, Mac is extra concerned with how he looks tonight. He doesn’t miss a chance to check his reflection the whole way over: in the passenger seat mirror of the Rover, his eyebrows raised; he preens in the front camera of Dennis’ android after he tries and fails to open the GPS app while Dennis is driving like he’d asked. Checking for what, Dennis has no idea. His hair was practically glued down with all of that gel anyways. 

Mac even checks his full-body reflection at the entrance, pausing in front the window pane that was emblazoned “Guigino’s” in gold cursive.

“Dude, you don’t need to check yourself out in every goddamned reflective surface. You look fine.” 

Dennis turns to the mousy-haired usher and makes an impatient face. The usher looks back him and shrugs.

Mac doesn’t see the exchange, just cocks his head at his reflection until his lips flip up into a lopsided smile. He turns to Dennis, his eyes scanning his profile.

“I do?” 

“Yes! You’ve been looking at yourself since we left the apartment.” Dennis says in a rush. 

Mac stills. “No, you think I look fine, dude?” 

Mac raises his eyebrows, tilting his chin to his chest. His puppy dog eyes shine with humor mixed with a little bit of hope. Dennis blinks at him, bewildered, and it occurs to him that they’re still standing on the pavement.

“Yes, yes. You look lovely. Let’s just get inside, alright? It’s a busy night.” 

He puts his hand to the small of Mac’s back and Mac allows Dennis to guide him to the entrance. 

“Table for two,” Dennis commands the young hostess once inside. He keeps his hand where it is because why not. Mac grins at his side and Dennis feels him lean into his touch. 

The young brunette pauses, glancing between them. Dennis cocks his head to the side, frowning at her hesitation. She jumps at his sharp gaze and quickly switches back into business mode.

“Um, of course sirs, follow me.” 

Mac turns to Dennis, eyes bright.

“She called us Sirs!” 

Dennis sighs, dropping his hand. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, bozo.” 

He tails the hostess to their table with Mac in tow.

* 

They’re seated in a nice spot with an acceptable amount ambiance near the spiral staircase. Dennis' chair is stable on all four legs and he considers this a small success. Mac doesn’t bat an eyelash when Dennis orders for them both and hands their menus back to their waiter who swoops in soon after they’re seated. _Good service._ Dennis thinks. _This is going great so far._

“I’m really glad we’ve kept this tradition going,” Mac says after a moment. 

He twirls his straw in his starter lemon water absently and looks across the table at Dennis from under his eyelashes. His voice is quiet even though the rest of the establishment is loud enough that no one could possibly overhear their conversation. 

Dennis quirks his lips upwards not insincerely. 

“Yeah, bud? Me too.” 

“Really? Awesome.”

“Were you worried that I wasn’t?” 

“Not really, it’s just nice to hear you say it.” 

Mac beams at him from across the table and something flip-flops in Dennis’s stomach. How could Mac gaze at him so openly like this in such a setting yet be so closed off about other things? It was mystifying. 

They talk about everything and nothing for a while until the lanky waiter appears tableside with two platters and a bottle of white wine, surprising them out of their conversation. 

“Bon appetit, gentlemen,” he says, bending over the table to place their meals down one by one. Mac narrows his eyes at him, sizing him up. 

“Uh, bon appetit to you too, dude.”

Dennis ducks his head, tries and fails to hide his laugh behind a cough. 

The young man’s blue eyes flit between the two of them before taking on a knowing gleam. He nods, polite. 

“I hope everything has been suitable for you two gentlemen so far.”

Mac leans forward and Dennis feels his calf brush past his own under the table. 

“Well yeah, you just served us this food, dude. We’ll let you know,” he says obnoxiously. 

The waiter walks away, muttering something under his breath and Dennis can’t help but laugh again. Mac takes this in, eyes bright. 

“Why don’t you say whatever that was to my face, bitch!” Mac calls out, a hand clutched in a fist around the stem of his wine glass. A few of the other patrons turn their heads at the noise. 

“Down, boy!” Dennis takes a savoury sip of his own wine and watches a vein bulge in Mac’s neck. 

“Sorry Dennis, I just didn’t like how that douche was looking at us. Just give us our food and fuck off, you know?” 

Dennis takes another long sip of his wine before speaking again. 

“Looking at us how?”

Mac scratches the back of his neck and rolls his eyes before looking down at the tablecloth.

“You know, like we’re a couple or something.”

Dennis meets Mac’s eyes over the rim of his wineglass before setting it down. 

“Mac it’s 2015. We’re two perfectly normal-looking men enjoying a meal and wine alone together at a four star restaurant. What would stop him from thinking we’re a couple?” He asks, tone reasonable.

“Well, we could be business associates. Which we technically are? Also men eat out together all the time!”

Dennis narrows his eyes and squints up at the ceiling, sucking in air between his teeth. He could play with this.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, but with the amount of cologne you’re wearing?” He drops his eyes to Mac’s chest for emphasis. “That’s indicative of romantic attraction, and at the very least, expectation of getting a little closer later on. That kid was just being observant!” 

Mac gasps softly and a hand flies up to his collar. His mouth hangs open for a second, caught up and obviously conflicted on how to respond. Now Dennis was enjoying himself.

“You think? I didn’t-, I’m mean I’m not, we’re not-” he balks.

Dennis says nothing, just leans forward and places his left hand down beside Mac’s right on the table. Wide-eyed, his roommate tracks the movement, never moving. He looks down at their hands and speaks to them instead of braving Dennis’ face. 

“That waiter had no business looking at us like that, dude. We’re not a couple. We don’t kiss. After this, you’re not going to take me home and bang me like we are a couple of queers. Those. are just. the facts.” 

Mac finishes, clearly heated and exhales a shaky breath. He picks up his wine with his free hand and takes long drink. Dennis is reeling on the inside, absolutely tickled that he got this sequence of words out of Mac’s mouth somehow. Now this was getting somewhere. 

On the outside, he pretends to consider Mac’s words for a moment.

“Well that’s fair. No need to get all worked up,” Dennis cooes, briefly running his thumb across the inside of Mac’s palm. Mac nods, wary.

“Besides,” Dennis ducks his head, seeking Mac’s gaze. Mac’s deep brown eyes go to Dennis’ lips first then flick upwards to meet his blue ones. Mac blinks a few times and takes another draught of wine to steady himself, swallowing with an audible gulp. 

“Who says I’d be the one doing the banging?” Dennis asks innocently.

Mac pulls his hand back into his lap, quick, as if he’d just received a static shock. His eyes widen as he looks down at his plate, scandalised. A light red blush creeps up his collar to his cheeks. 

For a horrible second, Dennis imagines that he might’ve gone too far. Mac clears his throat and speaks quickly.

“Dude, just drop it. We’re not a fucking couple. Let’s just enjoy our dinner okay? Our food is getting cold as we speak.”

Mac’s ears are absolutely ruddy now. He picks up his fork with his left hand and stuffs himself with a mouthful of his meal. 

‘Gotcha’, Dennis thinks. No one could take this from him. If he was anyone else, Mac would be laughing way too loud in his face. He wouldn't pull back, embarrassed. Mac had definitely thought about it. Definitely. Dennis smirks and raises both hands in mock surrender. 

“Just saying.” 

Mac huffs out a breath and takes refuge in his hearty plate of food. Dennis sips his wine, watching him for a moment before tucking into his own meal. He guesses that Mac doesn’t have a clue as to how good he actually looked. His features were treated nicely by the soft lighting, and Dennis had to admit that Mac's hair looked smart slicked back like that in this setting, helping him to look a bit more mature. 

After some time of eating and drinking in silence, Mac chances a glance up at Dennis between bites only for their eyes to meet again. He quickly looks back down at his food. _Wine, we need more wine_ , Dennis thinks. He grabs the bottle and refills their glasses, draining it before chucking it back in the ice bucket. 

“We should do a toast,” Dennis hears himself saying. 

Mac perks up, eager to talk about something else.

“Ooh, okay! I love toasts.” He raises his glass. “What are we toasting to?”

Dennis shrugs. “The usual. Not being dead. Future triumphs. Friendship.” 

Mac smiles and clinks their glasses together unceremoniously.

“To being alive, and to friendship,” Mac echoes. “Also shoutout to all of God’s blessings.” 

“...Cheers.”

They drain their glasses watching each other and Dennis feels hyper-aware of the setting all of the sudden. It’s odd, he thinks, being here without having someone else from the gang dropping in, without some oddball scheme attached to the whole thing. It was probably the most normal night they’d had in a long time. He feels on edge, caught up in the moment.

“Do you consider me a blessing?” Dennis asks quietly. 

Mac’s features screw into a confused frown. 

“Dude, of course I do. Why would you even ask that?” He leans back in his chair and gives Dennis a once-over. “Are you feeling okay?”

Two good questions that he does not have the answers to right now. He doesn’t know why he asked that. He didn’t know how he should be feeling. He doesn’t know if “feeling” is even the right word. He forgot all of the sudden what he was going for here. Why did he have to be going for anything at all? 

“I’m fine,” Dennis says.

Mac takes a deep breath. “Are you doubting our friendship dude? Because I apologized for when-”

“No, no, no, don’t get your underwear in a twist. I’m not. We just toasted to our friendship.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel,” Mac pauses, lowering his tone dramatically. “I feel like you’re pulling away from me a bit lately.” 

Dennis blinks. He wasn’t expecting that.

“What?”

Mac leans back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t want to bring it up, but now you’re acting all weird again and-”

“Mac, you always feel that way because you’re obsessed with me.” 

Mac shakes his head and sits up a bit taller in his seat, excited now.

“No, this is different! I can sense it.”

It was Dennis’ turn for his cheeks to redden. He was losing control of the situation, fast.

“Oh you can sense it. He can sense it, everyone! Pray tell, Mac, what is it that you’re sensing?”

Mac crosses his arms defiantly. “Don’t patronize me Dennis. I know that my perspective is valid in its own right.”

Dennis scoffs.

“Alright, where did you read that, huh? Did you go back to that psychologist bitch and pick up a pamphlet? Were you dumb enough to think that she was actually going to write you a prescription for goddamned bovine hormones?” 

Mac glares at him, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Dennis realizes with a start that heart is banging in his chest. He tugs at his collar, which seems tighter than earlier somehow. 

“Listen to yourself, dude,” Mac says. “You don’t have to be so mean. Also, you’re completely deflecting.”

Dennis forces a laugh. “So you did visit her again.” 

Mac rolls his eyes and tilts his chin upwards, nose in the air. 

“I might have, I might not have. That’s besides the point.”

“Is it now.”

“Yeah,” Mac says. “It is. She also said it’s important that I can keep some things to myself.”

When did Mac find the time to visit that woman without him knowing? Did Charlie take him? That bastard. What else was he missing? 

“Alright, alright.” Dennis concedes, backpedaling. “I don’t want to fight, babe. We didn’t come here to fight. Right?”

Mac eyes him, his expression guarded. Usually calling Mac a name like that could subdue him somewhat, but right now Mac is not budging. He needs to think of something and fast. Dennis leans forward, elbows resting on the table.

“How about we finish our meals here and I order us a couple of the house reds to go.”

Mac perks up at this. “Really? Two of them?”

Yes, two. One thing Dennis knew is that alcohol could improve upon any situation. He couldn’t further this conversation any more sober than he is. Also, he thinks he has a plan. 

“Yeah, we can drive somewhere else to drink and talk in private,” Dennis says, his tone dulcet, suggesting. 

“You want to do that?” Mac asks, his eyes dubious.

“Yeah, why not,” Dennis says, gazing thoughtfully back at his friend. “These nights are supposed to be about celebration.”

Mac pauses for a moment, considering, before nodding in agreement with a serious look on his face. “You’re right.”

_Perfect._

Dennis spots the waiter somewhere behind Mac and raises his arm, calling him over.

“Hey buddy, great meal. Awesome, actually. Do you think you could bring out a couple of your coldest house reds for me and my friend here?”

The waiter looks nonplussed before he schools his features into a modicum of professionalism again.

“Of course, sir. Will you be needing two bills as well?”

Mac finishes the rest of his wine and watches the exchange, quiet. Dennis smirks across the table at him before fixing the waiter with an incredulous look.

“What do you think?”


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So…hey,” Mac says. “Now that we’re here, what did you want to talk about?” 
> 
> “Ha,” Dennis chuckles. “Oh no. No, no, no. I think you’d better take another drink from that bottle there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wine-drunk boyfriends~
> 
> here's to phallic subliminal bottle innuendos! Also, don't drink and drive.
> 
> thanks to everyone for the kind comments, I've felt a big confidence boost in my writing just in the past 10 days.
> 
> enjoy!

“We could go to the bridge from my Day,” Mac suggests, once they're both settled in their seats in the Rover. His voice is quiet, hushed. “There’s a whole park under there.” Mac takes a long swig from the first bottle of red, swallowing with a noisy gulp.

“Yeah, dude,” Dennis says after a moment, his tone at a thoughtful murmur. “I remember. Sure.” He turns the key in the ignition, starting the car.

After that, the drive exists under some nebulous silence, as if either of them speaking would disrupt the plan that they had both somehow agreed upon.

Dennis drums his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes steady on the road. He swears he can feel Mac’s gaze on him, burning a hole in his right cheek. It was very distracting. ‘I have no clue how anything is about to go down’, he thinks. He hates not knowing. He imagines Mac abandoning him, running out of the car and diving into the lake like the cartoon coward he was. Of course, he'd be too drunk to tread water properly and Dennis would have to watch him drown, then find a way to live with himself after the matter. It probably be wouldn't be too easy. 

After a few more minutes of charged stillness, they pull to a stop at a red light and Dennis turns to the passenger’s side.

“Will you quit staring at me? Give me that.” He all but grabs the bottle of wine from Mac’s hands.

“I wasn’t staring at you.” Mac lies. “Also, you really shouldn’t drink and drive, dude.” 

“Oh, spare me. I eat cereal and drive.” 

Dennis throws his head back, taking a quick swig of from the cool bottle.

“Which is still so stupid.” Mac shakes his head. “Also, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Dennis rolls his eyes and takes another short pull of the wine before settling his gaze back on the road. 

“Oh, don’t start in on that again. Please,” he groans.

Dennis lifts the bottle, letting the chilly glass rest against his warm forehead.

The light turns green and he hears a short intake of breath from beside him.

“I won’t! Just give me back the booze, man!” 

_Scaredy-cat._

“Alright, take it, take it. Jesus Christ.” 

Dennis thrusts the bottle into Mac’s lap and presses down on the acceleration. Mac doesn’t call Dennis out for taking the Lord’s name in vain. He takes what Dennis gives him; what he’d ordered for them and only them and partakes.

Twenty minutes later, they pull off of the main road and onto the grassy area banking the river. Dennis parks the car with a jolting halt. He grips the steering wheel and watches the moonlight play on the dark body of water. Dennis closes his eyes, remembers seeing Country Mac’s body as a faraway blur, plunging into the water. How did he survive that fall? Dennis gets close to mourning him again for a second. 

It’s a brisk April evening and everything is dark around them except for the periodic glow from Dennis’ phone on the dashboard and the gleam of the city lights in the distance. The two friends sit for a short while, passing the open bottle between themselves, gazing dumbly out at the water under the bridge.

“Well,” Dennis breathes after a spell. “Here we are.”

“Yeah,” Mac echoes. He takes another swig of the wine. “Here we are.” 

Dennis sucks in a noisy breath and turns to Mac, who’s gazing back at him with a sort of lost expression on his face. The paper bag with the other bottle of wine in it sits in his lap, forgotten. Dennis reaches inside and pulls it out for himself. Mac jerks and glances down at his lap before looking back up at his friend. 

Dennis winks and pops the driver’s door open, letting subtle sounds of the city night float into the car. 

“Let’s get in the back.”

*

Mac slides onto the backseat, his own bottle in hand, and pulls the door shut with a snap. He stares out past the passenger's seat and through the front window for a beat before turning to his friend.

“So…hey,” Mac says. “Now that we’re here, what did you want to talk about?” 

“Ha,” Dennis chuckles. “Oh no. No, no, no. I think you’d better take another drink from that bottle there.”

Mac fixes Dennis with a hard look before bringing the bottle to his lips. Dennis nods. Mac tilts his head back and drinks. His Adam’s apple bobs a few times before he drops the bottle back to his lap and drags the back of his hand across his mouth. He raises his eyebrows and blinks slowly as if to say: “Happy?”

“Good boy,” Dennis murmurs. “My turn.”

He cracks open his own bottle and mirrors Mac, tilting his head back and chugging the wine down with his eyes closed. Dennis savours the flavour as much as he can while drinking like this. The wine is quality- oaky, sweet and it goes down smooth. He lets his eyes fall open and Mac is watching him, eyes burning with something. Dennis pulls his lips off of the bottle quickly and the sound makes a dull pop. 

"What?"

Mac casts his eyes downwards, his eyelashes fluttering. He rubs his thumb over the edge of his own bottle and licks his lips.

“I still don’t know what you were trying to say back there dude.” 

He takes a swig and pulls a sour face, wincing as the drink went down his throat. 

“You don’t like the wine?” Dennis asks, his voice soft. It occurs to him that he really needs Mac to like the wine. 

“The wine is fine, bro. I have a nice buzz going already,” Mac replies. He points at Dennis, the rest of his hand curled around the neck of his bottle. “It’s you that’s freaking me out.” 

Dennis shrugs. “That’s understandable.” He sighs and takes another swig from his bottle. 

“What’s going on, dude?” Mac asks, tone impatient.

“Take another drink, Mac.”

Mac glances down at the bottle in his lap for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Nope,” he replies. “I don’t think so. Not until you talk to me.”

Dennis winces at Mac’s tone and runs his fingers through his hair. This was a such bad idea. He presses his lips together, saying nothing. 

“Dude, will you stop being such a pussy and just tell me what’s going on?” Mac asks, his clear voice filling the space of the car.

Dennis takes yet another long drag of the wine and casts Mac a sideward glance. “Don’t call me a pussy.”

Mac rolls eyes. 

“Okay, will you stop being a dick and fill me in here?” Mac gives Dennis a pleading look. “Please, I’m lost. Are you okay or not? Am I gonna have to drive us home?”

A ridiculous question. Dennis closes his eyes, and partakes in the alcohol again, savouring the semi-bitter taste. 'This wine is excellent', Dennis thinks. He’ll have to remember the brand for another time.

“Earth to Dennis,” Mac whines, exasperated. 

Dennis opens his eyes and turns to Mac slowly, dropping his bottle to the seat. Mac’s staring at him, his expression apprehensive. His raises his eyebrows expectantly. Dennis sighs and hangs his head in defeat. He rubs a hand up and down his pant leg. Under the influence of this wine buzz and the remoteness of where they are, it’s a little easier to say what he wants to say. 

“I’ve been acting all weird because I miss you, okay? There.”

Mac inclines his head to the side, features pulling into a frown.

“You...miss me? Dennis, that doesn’t make any sense. We see each other everyday. How the hell can you miss me?”

“You don’t get it.” Dennis sighs and he feels a hot prickle behind his eyes. He takes another swig and barely even tasting it this time. “You just don’t get it.” Dennis says, his tone breaking.

“I don’t get what?!” Mac exclaims.

“Everything's different now, can’t you see that?” Dennis bursts out. ”I miss you. _We’re_ missing something.” Dennis brandishes his wine bottle, waving pointedly between their chests. 

Mac’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open.

“You think there’s something missing between us?” 

Now as the words came back to him, Dennis realizes he isn’t satisfied with them at all. At this rate, he would have to spell it all out for Mac and he really didn't want to have to do that. He shifts a couple inches along the carseat, moving closer to his friend. Mac doesn’t move away from the advance, just watches him, his gaze bright and steady.

“Yeah, there is,” Dennis purrs. He places a hand on Mac’s panted knee. ”Don’t you agree?”

Dennis brings his face a little closer to Mac’s and looks down at his puffy lips, which were currently stained crimson from the wine. ‘Beautiful,’ he thinks. The word comes to his mind out of nowhere. Dennis flicks his back gaze up to Mac’s wide brown eyes, the edges of his lips curling up into a lazy smile. 

Mac blinks and takes a shaky breath before turning away to face the window, his shoulders slumping backwards onto the seat. He speaks after a moment, voice low. 

“If you’re playing with me dude...”

Dennis rears back, a sharp pang hitting him in the chest. _What was that?_

“No, not this time. Just...listen okay?” Dennis says. “I’m being serious. I want us to be closer. There is nothing I want more right now than to touch you.” 

Mac shifts slowly, moving further backwards towards the car-door so he could get a good look at his friend. He stares at Dennis with a small smile playing on his lips.

It was true. Dennis hasn’t felt this honest about something in a long time. Mac brings a curled fist to his mouth and looks down at the space on leather car seat between them, his eyebrows raised. 

“What?” Dennis snaps.

“ _You_ want to touch _me_...sexually?”

“Yes, okay? We’re in the backseat of my sweet car, we’re half-drunk, the moon is shining outside of our window, it’s fucking springtime, dude- Get with the program here.”

Mac barely hears this. He squints at Dennis and brings a hand to his chest. 

“You want to touch me.” 

Dennis shifts even closer, emboldened. They were side by side on the seat now, knees meeting at the middle.

“Yes, Mac. I want to stroke your arms, and put my hands in your hair, and bite your neck and-”

“You do?” Mac whispers, clearly enraptured. 

“Yes!” Dennis replies, his tone emphatic and sincere. “And I want you to touch me too.” 

Dennis leans into Mac’s space, his breath puffing at his ear. “What do you have to say about that?”

Mac chuckles and closes his eyes. He lifts his bottle to his lips briefly before dropping it beside him on the seat. He giggles again and brings the bottle to his mouth.

“This is crazy.” Mac bursts against the lip of the bottle, breathless. “This is surreal. I feel like I’m dreaming or something.” He rests the back of his head against the carseat and takes a couple more gulps of the wine. 

Dennis blinks. “You really didn't see this coming?” 

“Hehehe-” Mac giggles, his peals of nervous laughter rising higher in pitch. The raven-haired man turns eyes his up to the ceiling of the Rover, gazing up blearily as if witnessing the heavens there before him. 

“Are you there God? It’s me, Mac. Did Dennis and me have an accident on the way here because he wouldn’t stop with his illegal drinking and driving and now we’re in heaven?” Mac blinks. “No! This is purgatory! Am I in purgatory right now, oh Lord? What do I have to do?”

Dennis pulls back, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you making fun of me dude? Are you seriously joshing me right now?”

Mac turns to face Dennis, his eyes wide as saucers. “No!” 

Dennis shoots him a hard look. Mac glances down at his lap.

“Well, kinda, but it’s just because I’m avoiding addressing what you said because I don’t want to give into my thoughts and urges.”

Dennis blinks slowly and his mouth pulls downwards into grim frown. _Huh._

“You’re gonna wish you never said that to me, my friend. Or be really glad you did.” He shrugs and takes another gulp of from his bottle of wine, his delicious traitor and key. 

“Maybe both. Doesn’t really matter anymore either way at this point,” Dennis adds, his tone morose.

Mac shifts in his seat. He looks down at his lap, fidgeting with his respective bottle. 

“Why not?”

Dennis sighs and drags his free hand down his face.

“Because I want to get off with you, and you obviously want to get off with me, we both know this now, without a doubt, and we’ve been sitting here for what- half an hour? And we still haven’t done anything yet and we’ve been living together nearly what, twenty years and I feel like I’m losing my goddamned mind Mac, that’s why not! That’s why it doesn't matter! Okay?” 

Mac sits like a rock, shocked into silence. He stares down at his lap for a long moment before raising his gaze to meet Dennis’ eyes which were burning with cold blue fury, and also a little bit of hurt. Mac blinks and he places his bottle of wine down on the floor of the car.

“I don’t want you to lose your mind, Dennis.” Mac says, his voice quiet.

Dennis laughs. _I don’t want to either,_ he thinks. _Even if it’s just for your stupid sake._

“Then fucking kiss me, you idiot.” 

And so Mac does; he lunges forward into Dennis' space and kisses him- and their lips meet soft, warm and pliant. Dennis’ eyes fall shut and it’s all a blur after that.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You look so, so good like this, you know that? Very sexy,” Dennis murmurs against Mac’s neck.
> 
> Mac’s eyes fall open. “I do?” He turns to Dennis, gazing at him from under damp eyelashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

Kissing Mac is a better experience than Dennis had previously bargained for. During most of his sexual escapades, the whole making out part was usually forgone by choice. He would indulge the girl if she was hotter than an eight but even still, the kissing usually ended up being underwhelming for him. As for the coitus part, well, that was fine. He just didn’t necessarily want to swap spit with someone he’d just met for no good reason. So for Dennis, kissing was more of a formality than anything else. 

With Mac, it’s a different story entirely. It’s a whole other ball game.

Mac reaches across Dennis’ chest and presses his palm flat against the car seat on the other side of his lap. He tilts his head to the right, deepening the kiss. Without thinking, Dennis lets his lips fall open and Mac doesn’t miss a beat, gently pushes his tongue past Dennis’ teeth into his mouth. Mac’s tongue is heavy and it tastes sweet and boozy like the wine. They are so incredibly close, Dennis has the sensation that air is being sucked out of his body somehow. It was all too much.

With his eyes still closed, Dennis brings a hand up to Mac’s cheek. He kisses Mac back for a short spell before ducking his chin, pulling away. Their lips separate with a wet smack.

Mac and Dennis stare at each other, unblinking in the dim light wearing twin dazed expressions. Neither of them says anything for a moment.

“Hey, hey, let’s pace ourselves.” Dennis breaks the silence first, mumbling, still out of breath. He sits back against the seat. 

“Holy shit,” Mac breathes. ”That's one of the best kisses I've ever had.” 

Mac’s eyelids flutter shut. He leans back against the seat with his chest heaving, a pink blush high on his cheeks.

Dennis thinks the same thing but he wasn't about to go and say “me too”. What he does is place his right hand on Mac’s thigh. He presses his lips to Mac’s neck before slowly dragging his tongue along a short stretch of it. Mac angles his head away, allowing his friend more access. Dennis swirls his tongue along the same patch of salty skin. Mac shivers, saying nothing and Dennis feels a molten pool materialize in his groin. 

‘This is happening,’ Dennis thinks. Mac was letting himself be touched like this, by him. Dennis resolves that he could get used to this blushy and quiet version of his best friend. It was unbelievably hot. He picks a spot on Mac’s neck that he likes and bites. He then sucks on it, hard.

“Ow,” Mac grumbles after Dennis pulls away. “That’s gonna show tomorrow.” 

He doesn’t look angry at all- if anything, Mac is even more aroused than he was after the kiss.

‘Tomorrow.’ The word floats through Dennis’ wine and lust-ridden mind. 'There's going to be an after to this,' Dennis thinks. They’d have to get back in the front seats where they belonged and drive back to the apartment at some point. He really doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want this to end.

Dennis watches Mac’s profile, glances down to Mac’s swollen lips. It occurs to him in this moment that Mac has had sex multiple times, with multiple people before him. The thought both settles him and puts him on edge.

Dennis brings his left hand to Mac’s right cheek again, rubs his thumb along the stubble there.

“Tomorrow doesn’t matter right now, baby boy.” Dennis says quietly. “I can cover it for you if you want. Just stay with me here. Are you with me?” He looks at Mac in the same way that he has dozens of times before, in a dozen other only slightly more plausible contexts. 

Mac licks his lips and nods. “I’m with you, I’m with you.”

Dennis smiles smugly before pressing his lips to Mac’s hickey, which was already blooming red. 

“Awesome.”

*

Dennis straddles Mac waist, his butt settling on Mac’s lower thighs near his knees. He lets his thighs open into a ‘v’ shape, rooting his knees down into the carseat on either side of Mac’s hips. He folds his arms together behind Mac's neck.

Mac looks up at him unblinking, his eyes steady.

“You can touch me, you know.” Dennis says simply.

Mac’s eyes lower to Dennis' chest. He lifts his hands from either side of his lap and places them gently on Dennis’ thighs, once on each. The weight is so nice, Dennis can’t help but smile.

“That’s it. Keep going.” 

Mac slowly brushes his palms up and down Dennis’ thighs, alternatively rippling and smoothing out the fabric of his pants. He continues the motion for a while, gawking down at his hands as if grounding himself.

“You finally get to engage with my great thighs,” Dennis says quietly, brushing his lips against Mac’s forehead. “How does that feel, hmm?”

He doesn’t expect Mac to respond.

“They feel sweet, dude. Just as firm as I thought they would be.” Mac says, finishing the sentence under his breath.

Dennis laughs and Mac bows his head into Dennis’ chest, hiding his face. He drags his palms along Dennis’ thighs and then upwards, up under Dennis shirt, past the dip in Dennis’ sides, up to his waist and ribcage.

“This is so great, just doing this, touching you,” Mac says, voice quiet with wonder. “I could do this forever.”

Dennis rolls his hips forward and is delighted to find that Mac is starting to get hard in his slacks. He pulls back and looks down into brown eyes, pupils that are blown black. Dennis leans into his knees more, brings one hand to cup Mac’s chin. He rubs his thumb along a plump, wet bottom lip.

“What if I want to try something else?”

Everything about Mac’s face answers for him. He doesn’t need to say a thing.

*

“Let’s get these off.” 

Mac lifts his hips and Dennis unbuttons and drags his pants down for him quickly. Mac is semi-hard in his navy blue boxer briefs, already tenting the dark fabric. It’s an impressive sight.

“Oh shit,” Dennis muses. “Is all this for me?”

He drags the heel of his palm up the weighty bulge and Mac whines quietly.

“Yes, Den,” Mac responds urgently, nodding hard. He blushes, wide eyes falling shut.

Dennis feels like a kid in a candy store. It was almost too easy. 

“Yeah?” Dennis echoes, his tone airy. He gives Mac’s bulge another experimental squeeze and Mac groans. “Now, what to do about this, huh?”

Dennis squeezes him again along his shaft, harder this time. 

“Fuck, Dennis,” Mac breathes. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t. Just tell me what you want.”

Mac heaves a shallow thrust upwards into Dennis palm.

“Shit, please,” Mac grunts.

“Please what?”

“Just keep going.”

That was enough for him. Dennis slides his hand under the elastic waistband and wraps a tight fist around his friend’s thick cock. He tugs him up and down a few times at a languid pace, watching Mac’s pained expression with a keen eye. Mac’s wanton groans are like music to Dennis’ ears.

“You look so, so good like this, you know that? Very sexy,” Dennis murmurs against Mac’s neck.

Mac’s eyes fall open. “I do?” He turns to Dennis, gazing at him from under damp eyelashes.

Dennis shrugs. “Sure you do, Mac. You’re not an ugly man.” 

Mac’s eyes fall closed again and Dennis continues his ministrations. He repeats his earlier movements, curls a fist around Mac and creates friction by pulling him slowly. Dennis swipes a thumb across the sensitive head, through the pre-cum that was already gathering there before dragging his fist down the shaft again. 

“Oh, Jesus fuck,” Mac whimpers.

Dennis smirks.

“Lift your butt again.”

Mac does and Dennis pulls the boxers down Mac’s thighs next, letting them join the forgotten wine bottles and pants on the floor of the car. 

Dennis’ eyes roam over Mac’s lower body for a long moment. He whistles low in his throat. 

“Wow, just look at you,” he says, giving weight to each word.

Mac shifts on the seat and cups himself protectively. 

“I’ll jizz pretty soon if you keep looking at me like that.”

Dennis bites his lower lip. He feels an all-too-familiar pull in his groin.

“Looking at you like what?”

“...Like you want to want to eat me.”

Dennis smiles wolfishly. “Is that want you want? Me to eat you? Because that can be arranged.”

Mac shivers and frowns, his eyes falling shut yet again.

“I love you, but you are such a fucking trip, dude,” Mac bursts out, frustrated. 

Dennis pretends he doesn’t hear this. 

“How about a blowjob instead?”

Mac’s eyes flicker open.

“Really?” He asks, tone hopeful.

Dennis brings his hand to his mouth, covering a laugh. Only Mac could have his dick out and still be surprised that the person he was with wanted to perform oral sex.

“Yeah, that’s kind of where this was heading.”

Mac eyes go from Dennis’s lips down to his groin then up to his eyes.

“But what about you?

“You’ve already seen my dick way too many times. Just let me enjoy this.”

Mac covers with eyes with his hands and laughs. 

“I always imagined this in high-school, you know.” 

Dennis cocks his head to the side. 

“What, me begging to suck your dick?” 

Mac drops his hand to Dennis thigh and pulls a face.

“No! Well maybe, but no. Just me and you, kissing in the back of a car...your car.”

Dennis feels a hot wave cross his chest. He’d wanted it to happen so many times too but he always thought that Mac would try to break his nose if he ever dared to lean in and kiss him.

“Oh, I can see that.”

“I thought it was super close to happening a few times, but it never did.” Mac says, his tone mournful. 

“We got close to it a couple times, didn’t we.” 

“You used to give me anxiety, dude. You always kept me on my toes. It was very stressful,” Mac complains. 

Dennis chances a look down at Mac’s lap and is dismayed to see that his erection was starting to soften.

“Yeah, well,” Dennis says airily. “Do you want the blowjob or not? Quick, before I change my mind.”

Mac curls a hand around himself and tugs upward lazily. He licks his lips and meets Dennis eyes, his expression coy.

“Yes, please.”

And if that wasn’t the worst and best image Dennis has seen in his entire godforsaken life.

*

The space in the backseat of the Rover grows a fraction after Dennis pulls a lever and pushes the passenger seat forward. He places the wine bottles under the driver’s seat and then settles on his knees between Mac thighs. He huffs a breath over his friends pretty cock and smirks up at him.

“Ready?”

*

“Oh Dennis, Dennis,” Mac pants. He draws his fingers through Dennis’ hair, down to the nape of his neck and back up through the curls again. “This feels so good. You're so good. Fuck, I can’t believe it.”

Dennis pulls off of Mac with a dull pop and meets Mac’s half-lidded stare. “Believe it.” Dennis ducks his head, taking Mac into his mouth once again.

Mac exhales a shallow breath, eyes falling closed. After about thirty seconds, the glorious movement on his penis halts and then he is trapped by a static wet heat. He opens his eyes, looks down and Dennis lips are still wrapped around the base of his cock, his blue eyes gazing calmly back up at him. 

Now that Dennis has Mac’s attention again, he pulls off of Mac slowly, curling his fist around where his mouth just was.

“You’d better watch me,” Dennis says, voice hard, and already a little hoarse. “None of that closing your eyes shit. I need to know you’re not imagining that I’m anyone else.”

Exasperated, Mac sighs loudly and runs his fingers through his own hair. 

“Who the hell else would I be thinking about?” He whines.

‘For starters, Rex,’ Dennis thinks. (Dennis doesn’t answer this.) He presses his palms into Mac’s thighs, holding him in place.

“Just keep your eyes open.” Dennis says.

He licks a long stripe up Mac’s hard shaft and the wraps his hand around him at the base.

It’s easily the most relaxed Dennis has felt since seven this evening. Knelt like a believer on his knees with Mac’s cock down his throat, eyes squeezed shut, hardly able to breathe. It’s a quiet headspace and Dennis finds himself floating along with his thoughts. He’s so hard that he can’t think, so just focuses on the task at hand. The sound of Mac’s grunts and groans reach his ears as if from a faraway distance. He anchors himself to the feeling of Mac’s hand tugging through his hair. 

Dennis breathes through his nose and alternates between deepthroating Mac’s dick and pulling off of him to look up and make sure he was still watching. Mac is doing a great job of keeping his eyes open, considering everything. From this angle, Mac’s gaze is heavy and lazy, and maybe a little lovesick. Mac watches him, eyes half-lidded and smiles slow when Dennis comes up for air again.

“You’re making me the happiest guy in Philly right now,” Mac says plainly.

Mac’s pupils are outstandingly dark and Dennis feels his cheeks growing hot but he doesn’t let it faze him. He refuses to feel intimidated in this position. He shifts on his knees, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I bet,” he croaks. He kisses Mac’s pink head and peeks at up Mac, giving him what he hoped was an even more salacious gaze. 

Mac’s lips fall apart and he tilts his head to the side before carding his fingers through Dennis’ hair again. 

_Superb._

Dennis licks a slow stripe up the side of Mac’s cock before swallowing him down another time. 

“Shit, shit,” Mac grits out. “Fuck, Dennis, I think I’m gonna come.”

Dennis bobs his head twice slowly and then Mac shudders and jerks his hips upwards, releasing down Dennis’ throat.

The distinctive taste of Mac’s come on his tongue is something Dennis knows he won’t soon forget.

*

“So…..” Mac says, after they’ve both caught their breaths and Dennis has returned to his seat beside him. “What does this mean?”

“What does this mean?” Dennis repeats. He casts Mac a strong sideways glance. _What does this mean?_

“Yeah,” Mac breathes. He puts his feet through the holes his boxers shorts and pulls them back up his thighs. 

“I don’t know about you, but that felt, like, monumental. It has to mean something, so where do we go from here?”

‘What a fucking question,’ Dennis thinks. The thing is, there really wasn’t much room to move anywhere else in their relationship. They already lived together, shared everything and now they’d gotten off together. What was there left to do? Dennis has a flashback to Mac’s words from years ago. 

_“Two men banging each other, what do you get from that? Nothing!”_

Those words had damned near ruined his life. They’d made Dennis reflect. Made him remember that he was pushing forty and still hadn’t been married. It occurred to him that he had at one point wanted the wife and the white picket fence, everything. Mac’s indignant outburst had pushed him over a small cliff, given him the sudden burning desire to meet up with Maureen Ponderosa again. And look how that had turned out. Dennis couldn’t make a single alimony payment without thinking about Mac. He couldn’t go a day without thinking about him.

Dennis pivots the back of his head along the top of back-car seat slowly, turning to look Mac straight in the eye. He feels very sober all at once. 

“We go nowhere from here,” Dennis says. “We go home. What this means is that you just got your dick sucked, you're welcome. It means you’re not allowed to say to _my_ face that you’re straight, ever again.”

Mac blinks, taken aback. “But-’

“Mac, ever. For my sanity. If you care about me.”

Mac sighs and runs a hand over his stubble. “Alright, fine. But-”

“Also, we jerk off together now. We haven’t for a while and I understand why, but from now on, we get off together when we can, alright? It doesn’t make any sense not to at this point.” 

What Dennis doesn’t say is that he needs it to be that way. That he’s missed it so much. 

“Jeez, okay!” Mac concedes. “That wasn’t my fault! Goodness.” 

But he doesn’t seem bothered by this at all. For Mac, agreeing to jerk off with Dennis on a regular basis definitely wasn’t a time-consuming decision to make, despite the whole god-fearing Christian thing. He agrees, follows along with Dennis’ plan, as he had grown accustomed to doing for so long.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks.

Dennis turns to face the foggy window, smiling to himself. ‘This must be what victory feels like,’ he thinks.

It can be quiet, not accompanied by a cavalcade or a bunch of fireworks going off. It can be a small concession, a tiny treaty clause that yields enormously gratifying results. _This is good to be true,_ is what Dennis thinks next. _It’s probably all downhill from here._


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not ‘getting all mushy’, I’m just trying to...debrief. And you're one to talk! You’re the one who asked me if I considered you a blessing and talked about me banging you, in open air!”
> 
> Dennis pulls to a stop at the last light before Dee’s apartment complex. _I said all of that, didn’t I?_

Dennis lets Mac kiss him slowly one last time and he makes sure to enjoy it. He closes his eyes, gets a good grip on Mac’s waist and everything. 

There’s something about the immediate stillness of the air in the car that makes everything okay in the moment. It feels like Mac is kissing him like he thinks it’s the last thing he’ll do. Maybe Dennis even bites Mac’s bottom lip a bit when they part, just because he can. He isn’t sure when the next time they’ll be able to do this will be; Mac would most likely have a big gay freak out tomorrow and vow to never indulge in such a carnal sin as kissing another man again. 

Dennis wouldn’t be surprised; it wouldn’t be the first time that Mac has grossly disappointed him. 

Mac pulls away from the kiss, opening his eyes and shifts back on the seat a couple of inches. His eyes roam over Dennis face before a small smile pulls up the corners of his lips. Dennis watches Mac watch him and finds he doesn’t really know what to say next. He feels exposed all of the sudden. So he doesn’t say anything, just glances down at the floor of the car and runs his hands through his hair. 

After a long moment, Mac opens his mouth to say something and Dennis turns to the side, cracks his door open. He stumbles down out of the car and his shoes hit damp grass. 

Dennis pushes the door shut and looks up over the roof of the Rover. He doesn’t particularly want to see Mac’s disappointed face through the window right now. He could already picture how terribly pathetic his expression would be in his mind, clear as day, at being abandoned after a kiss like that. 

'Well, tough,' he thinks. Dennis steps to the side bit before leaning backwards against the side of the car. He needs to catch his breath. 

Not for the first time tonight, he finds himself staring out at the lake. 

Now that he’s upright in the cool spring evening air, it occurs to him that they both really weren’t that drunk. Not drunk enough for all of that to have happened, all of those words to have been exchanged solely because of the wine. He knew this. They were both alcoholics, two bottles of red wine was hardly incapacitating. That was about 80% them, 20% the wine, the whole thing. 

_‘50% me’,_ Dennis reasons, because he’d been the one who’d felt the need to start gushing about his feelings like he was some sort of fourteen year old. 

Dennis curses himself, stares up at the black sky for a moment before pushing off of the car and walking around its side to the back. 

Once there, he pops the trunk open to find a fresh case of water bottles there, placed strategically over his “secret tool” compartment. Dennis digs his keys out of his pocket and stabs down through the taut plastic with a sharp point. 

It feels nice to do. He pulls two bottles out of the case before reaching up and bringing the trunk door down with a snap. 

When he gets back to the front of the car, Mac is sat on the passenger's side, seat belt on, waiting. Once he sees Dennis, he smiles mildly before silently turning to look through his side window. _So he was disappointed._

If it wasn’t for the messy hair and the hickey on Mac’s neck, no one would ever be able to guess what had just transpired just by looking at him. Dennis, on the other hand, feels like a whole different person, like he’s just been turned inside out.

“Here.” He tosses one of the bottles into Mac’s lap. 

Mac catches the bottle right before it hits his crotch. “Thanks, man,” he says brightly. “You’re always prepared.”

Dennis smirks wryly and pulls his seatbelt across his chest before clicking it into place.

“Yeah, well,” he breathes. “You never know when you’re gonna have to wash the taste of another man’s come off of your tongue.” 

Mac barks out a surprised laugh, and even though Dennis is the one to have made the joke, it still feels like it’s on him. He cracks open his water bottle and chugs most of it down in one go. Dennis doesn’t bother capping it again, just places the bottle in the cupholder silently. He pulls his keys out of his pocket and carefully puts the one for the Rover in the ignition and turns.

“Alright, let’s get the hell out of here.” 

*

The drive back to Dee’s is quiet. Dennis puts on a Bryan Adams album at a low volume and Mac shifts in his seat and continues to stare out the window. He occasionally hums along to the songs half-assedly, like he can't help it, despite his sour mood. 

Dennis is happy that Mac doesn't try to start a conversation, seeing as he really needs to concentrate on driving at the moment. Still, Mac’s silence is unnatural, especially after what just happened. 

So it’s not exactly Dennis’ fault that he can’t stop wondering about what he’s thinking about. 

* 

“I heard what you guys were saying earlier, you know.” Mac mumbles under his breath, two-thirds of the way home.

Dennis jumps but doesn’t take his eyes off of the road. There is a tone that Mac’s voice can take on- it had a slight holier-than-thou, know-it-all tinge to it, and it regularly made Dennis experience a weird range of sensations. Already, he feels something dislodge from his upper chest and fall to his stomach.

“What are you talking about now?”

“I heard, Dennis.” Mac continues, his voice a little louder, but still muffled from being turned away. “The walls in the bar are like, paper-thin.” 

Dennis makes a right turn, saying nothing. He feels nothing except for his cheeks getting warm for what must be the hundredth time tonight. 

Mac sighs at Dennis’ silence. He shifts in his seat to sit upright.

“I’m okay with tonight having been a date,” he says. “Especially after what just happened." 

"Only with you,” Mac adds, after a moment. 

Dennis fights the impulse to roll his eyes. They weren’t home free yet. He really needs to keep his eyes on the road and his foot steady. He takes a slow breath.

“This hasn’t been a date, Mac. It’s been our monthly dinner, as scheduled. Both parties have to actually agree upon it being a date before it gets the title of 'date'. What you heard was just Dee and Charlie being very, very obnoxious.”

Mac exhales in a huff. “Well, I’ve been acting like it was a date, and look how we ended up!”

Dennis doesn’t reply, hangs another smooth right turn in silence. 

“So that’s why you couldn't stop looking at your reflection earlier," he muses, after a couple of minutes. "You wanted to be sure that you looked good for me.” 

Mac makes an impatient noise. “Come on Den, don’t avoid the subject.” 

“Oh, don’t get all mushy on me now, alright? Please. You don’t even believe that you’re gay.”

Mac shrugs. 

“I’m not ‘getting all mushy’, I’m just trying to...debrief. And you're one to talk! You’re the one who asked me if I considered you a blessing and talked about me banging you, in open air!”

Dennis pulls to a stop at the last light before Dee’s apartment complex. _I said all of that, didn’t I?_

“Open air,” he echoes dryly. “Awesome memory you’ve got there, dude. I guess all the glue-huffing with Charlie hasn’t completely addled your brain.” 

There’s no real force behind the words and they sound hollow to his own ears. Dennis can’t imagine how tired and empty they sound to Mac's.

“Just…” he starts. “I’m fine with today having been a date, Dennis. That’s all I’m saying.”

Dennis groans. “Yeah, I know you think you are.” 

“I am, okay?” Mac insists.

“....Okay. Fine, whatever. Doesn’t mean it was one.” 

Dennis wishes Mac wasn’t so quick to get emotional about things. He should’ve known that he would be practically ready to exchange vows after getting blown by his best friend.

Then again, Dennis wasn’t really thinking about the future at the time. 

That was the downside of lust, it made you so one-track minded. 

Mac pointedly turns his full body to face the window again, clearly unsatisfied with the conversation. 

‘Let him stew,' Dennis thinks. 'I’ve been stewing for years.’ 

After a few more minutes, he turns into the complex’s lot, pulls quickly into an open spot and parks the car with a jolt. 

Dennis exhales a long breath and thanks his clearly preternatural foot-hand-eye-coordination abilities for landing them back home in one piece, before turning to the passenger’s side to find that Mac’s back is still turned to him. He watches the back of Mac's head for a moment, takes in his fluffy hair, his downward-slumped shoulders, the tight cross of his arms. Before thinking about it, Dennis' hand is on one of them, squeezing softly. 

"Hey," he says.

Mac immediately melts at Dennis’ touch and turns away from the window to look in his direction. His brown eyes are sad, way too sad for someone who didn’t even consider this being a real possibility even one day ago. He looks like he's missed the deadline for a special opportunity that he didn't realize he'd wanted until the last minute. Robbed. Devastated. 

“Mac babe, we’re definitely not dating." Dennis says, looking down at the steering wheel. "We don’t date. We’re too fringe to date, especially not each other...Come on, we’re smarter than that,” he pleads. 

The words are weird to say, but they make sense to his ears. 

The reality of it was, they were just really too fucked up to try. It'd be over before it even begun. 

“You might have a point there...” Mac concedes reluctantly. 

“Good! I'm glad we’re on the same page.” 

Dennis meets Mac’s eyes, smiles what he hopes is a quick, assuring smile and moves to open his car door. 

“Wait!” Mac cries. 

Dennis pauses, his hand already on the door handle. “Gosh, what now?” 

Mac's eyelashes flutter as he looks downwards, fumbles with his own hands in his lap. 

“Okay, I know we’re not dating,” he begins quietly, “ButcanyouletmetrysomestuffonyouthenexttimeDeegoesoutforawhile?" 

Mac takes a breath. "She basically implied that she expected us to use the apartment that way when she’s out.” 

Dennis smirks and releases the door handle. Of course Mac’s next main concern was whether or not he’d get ever get to see his dick again, and when. Of course. He brings his hand to his blood brother’s shoulder and grips him steadily there for a moment. Mac really didn’t need to worry about that. 

“Sure, dude,” Dennis replies, his tone noncommittal. “If you catch me in the right mood.” 

Mac's grin is so bright, Dennis has to look away. It was blinding. 

* 

When they get up to the apartment, Dennis immediately senses that Dee isn’t back from the bar yet. 

Mac toes off his shoes and lopes over to the couch before crashing down on to it backwards with a loud sigh. Dennis drops his keys to the coffee table noisily and stalks over to Dee’s room. He turns the knob quickly and throws the door open. 

He’s right. It is empty. 

Dennis pauses in the doorway for a moment, mulling this over. He isn’t sure if that should mean anything right now. He quietly steps back into the living room to find Mac still sitting on the couch. He’s currently pointing the remote controller at the TV, switching rapidly through channels. 

“I’m not that tired yet, really,” Mac says. “Wanna watch a movie?” 

He pats the space on the seat beside him distractedly, his eyes still on the screen. Dennis can tell that Mac’s going for casual. It’s about as effective as clear tape on a windshield crack. 

‘This really shouldn’t be surprising,’ is what he thinks next. It’s what they usually did after their monthly dinners, back when they had their own place. They would come home feeling great after good conversation, with satisfied bellies and would sit down to watch a movie together. They would share the space on their leather couch, probably sitting closer than they would on any other nights. 

Dennis shakes his head at the memory. That seems like centuries ago. Eons. He walks over to Dee’s plush couch and drops down onto it beside his friend. 

“Alright, but I pick this time. I refuse to sit through another Bruce Willis movie right now.” 

Usually Mac would pick a fight about this, but today he just nods as if Dennis’ words make perfect sense. 

“Sure.” 

Dennis takes the controller from Mac’s hands and quickly finds a nice psychological thriller that’s just about to start. They settle back onto the couch and actually follow the story for a while. During a particularly quiet scene, Mac lifts his right arm and drapes it along the back of the couch, behind Dennis’ head. Dennis pulls a face at the move but still, he shifts little closer to Mac on the seat, eyes staring straight ahead at the screen. 

* 

More often than not, they would talk all throughout movies the movies they'd watch together, Mac commenting on the finer points of the main man’s physique, Dennis critiquing directorial choices or something or the other. After a bit, it occurs to Dennis that it really isn’t that way tonight. They sit and watch the film under a peculiar silence, content with just sharing each other’s space. 

Half an hour later, Mac and Dennis are still in the same position, so engrossed in the plot that they don’t hear Dee enter the apartment. 

“Well,” Dee announces loudly from the entrance, her eyebrows raised. “You two look cozy.” 

Mac and Dennis both jump, their gazes flickering up to the doorway at the noise. Dee has a hand on her hip and a slightly amused expression on her face. 

Mac slowly lifts his arm from behind Dennis’ head and drops his hand back into his lap. 

Dennis pouts, cursing the empty sensation of cool air along the back of his neck where Mac's warm presence just was. 

“Shut up, Dee.” Dennis raises his voice, his eyes trained back on the screen. 

“So sorry to interrupt,” Dee intones sarcastically. She steps pointedly in front of the TV before making a beeline towards her room. 

“Holy crap, be quiet, bird. Can’t you see that we're watching something?” Mac adds. 

Dee sighs and shakes her head tiredly, pushing into her room. Dennis watches her back and the corners of his lips tug upwards into a tight smile. 

_Some things never change._

And if some things do change, if Mac puts his arm back where it was and keeps it there until the end of the movie, something he’s never tried before tonight, well then, he guesses, that might be okay too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh. I know it's been a Long Time. Thank you to everyone for bearing with me. As always, thank you for the kudos and comments!
> 
> It didn't occur to me that Mac overheard the conversation in the bar until like, two days ago. I swear to God. The rest of the chapter pulled together pretty quickly after that.


End file.
